


Not So Secret Santa

by IntoTheGallifray



Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheGallifray/pseuds/IntoTheGallifray
Summary: Just a little Christmas fluff for the holiday season <3As always, many MANY thanks to my beautifully wonderful, patient, encouraging beta/twin/eaaagleeeee San for improving on my Christmas rambles <3 <3
Relationships: Charles Jones/Sam Young (Let's Play)
Kudos: 43





	Not So Secret Santa

Charles watched as Sam helped Lucy distribute the Secret Santa gifts around the office with an expression of pure joy, her warmth palpable even from where he stood. It was heartening to see her looking happy again, particularly after how upset she'd been on learning that her parents would be away for Christmas; her father had accompanied her mother while she was filming in Portugal, and production had ended up extending over to December 29th. Additionally, Jay and Ruth had travelled to spend Christmas day with Ruth's family this year, leaving Sam to her own devices for the actual holiday. When she’d told Charles about her family’s whereabouts for Christmas, she’d put on a brave face, trying to cover up how affected she truly was; but Charles had easily seen through her façade, something he was grateful for. Then again, she never tried all that hard to hide anything from him. He'd taken her fingers in his and gently squeezed, gifting her one of his rare genuine smiles, and said, "I bet your Christmas will still be one to remember."

Before she'd had a chance to ask what he meant, they'd been interrupted by Lucy coming over to recruit Sam for Secret Santa coordination. That had been two days ago, and Charles had been busy with preparations since then; phone calls, requests, organizing, calling in favours, and even one or two bouts of bribery. But everything was set for that evening, Christmas Eve. 

"And this one's for you, Charles," Lucy's cheeky grin popped into view, pulling the blond from his mindful meanderings.

"Ah, yes, thank you, Lucy," he nodded, taking the proffered gift, wrapped with an obvious amount of care and painstaking effort. 

He looked up to see Lucy watching him expectantly, catching Sam out of the corner of his eye holding her own gift, anxious to see her reaction as he knew exactly what lay inside,.

"Well?" prompted the redhead.

"...Thanks?" he responded, intentionally obtuse, before turning to address everyone, "Well, that marks the half day (truly, it was 11 am, but it _was_ also Christmas Eve), why don't you all head on out for Christmas."

His words were met with a surprisingly rousing cheer, the grins of his colleagues infectious as they bid him a ‘Merry Christmas’ or ‘Happy Holidays’ on their way out. Except for one brunette, who patiently waited until they were alone.

"Don't you want to see what your Secret Santa got you?" she asked, nodding toward the package still in his hands.

"I could ask the same of you," he smirked in return.

"Let's open them together?" she suggested, eyebrows raised.

"Alright," he conceded, not that he needed much convincing.

He meticulously undid the wrapping of his gift, being careful to crease the paper as little as possible, all while surreptitiously watching Sam tear into hers, excitement shining in her eyes. He paused in his own actions to adore the way her brow furrowed as she read the card inside, focussing on the words he already knew by heart as she read aloud, "For warm sustenance you need only mosey, to a place where one is always _cozy_....Whaaa..." 

Her confusion lasted only a second, Charles having to stifle a laugh as it clicked, "It's a riddle!" Unhinged elation beamed outward from her, catching Charles up in its current, "It would seem that way," he smiled.

She chewed her lip thoughtfully as she looked over the words again, the one italicized word catching her attention.

"Hmmm...cozy..." Sam had a thought that spun into an idea, looking up at Charles, eyes narrowing, "I think I might know where this leads. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?"

"I'm as surprised as you are," he said unconvincingly, palms raised.

"Yeah right," she scoffed, then "Charles will you drive me to the restaurant we went to with the fish and chips?"

"Of course," he nodded, moving to follow her out of the office, almost walking into her when she stopped suddenly and spun on her heel, the close proximity making both of them blush, "What about _your_ gift?" she asked, looking up at him with wide, shining eyes.

He held the partially opened package aloft and said, "Why don't we finish with yours first, and then I'll finish opening mine."

"Ok deal," she nodded, spinning back to lead the way.

Charles felt his phone buzz in his pocket as he followed her, answering a quick text as they rode the elevator down to the garage. The instant the doors were open, Sam was practically running to the car in her enthusiasm, Charles having to walk briskly to keep up.

"Easy there, Bunty," he chuckled, still managing to grip her door handle first.

"Pff," she responded, getting into the seat, "Not when I get to go on a scavenger hunt!"

"Quite right," he nodded, giving in to her sense of adventure.

They arrived at the restaurant and, sure enough, Sam was quick to find the next clue, needing only to show the first one to the hostess who then handed Sam the next piece of the puzzle. Charles tugged her into an alcove beside a small Christmas tree while she read it over, her voice drifting up to him, "Thunder outside, but within a break-through, where the little lamb first spoke her wishes true."

With that passage, Sam went from being 98% to 100% certain that Charles was her Secret Santa, though she decided to play along...for now.

"I'm pretty sure I know where this leads," she grinned, and then the mouth-watering aroma of nearby food hit her full force, momentarily distracting her, "Oh, should we grab something to eat first?"

Charles had to think on his feet, trying to keep her on progression, "We can always order it at my place later."

Sam felt an instant warmth at what his words implied; that they would still be together later on...at his place; the feeling exacerbated by the warm Celtic Christmas music that floated all around them. Finally, she managed to reply, "Alright then, to the next clue!"

They pulled up to the restaurant where she and Charles had lunched together on her invitation (even though the sneaky Welshman had been testing her with the choice in eatery). The interior was festooned with Christmas decorations in a theme of silver and gold, classy yet not cold; it reminded her a bit of the song, Silver and Gold, from her childhood Rudolph special. She looked around until she spotted what she was looking for: The table where she and Charles had sat when she’d told him she didn’t want to be CEO. They walked over, but Sam halted when she saw a ‘Reserved’ sign on the table.

“Oh I guess someone’s reserved it,” she said, slightly disappointed.

“Take a closer look,” Charles murmured, Sam startled on noticing how closely he’d stepped to her.

She leaned forward to see there was a place card in front of one of the plates which read ‘Samara Young’.

Moving nearer, she noticed a piece of paper on the plate assigned to her name, folded into the shape of a red Origami dragon.

“It’s so beautiful,” she breathed, gingerly picking it up, loath to undo the complicated looking fold, “I…I don’t want to ruin it.”

“It only took-” Charles caught himself mid-sentence, clearing his throat before continuing, “I mean, I’m sure they just followed some easy instructions or something like that.”

“Mhmm,” Sam replied, clearly unconvinced.

She very carefully unfolded the dragon, only until she could read the clue inside, eagerly claiming to know that location, as well as the following ones, until they arrived at yet another familiar restaurant.

“L’Amour,” she grinned sheepishly, immediately remembering the night that Charles had first seen her intoxicated; and subsequently being thoroughly embarrassed.

On walking inside, she made a beeline for the table she had shared with Charles when they’d had their initial ‘discussion’ about letting things progress ‘organically’ all those months ago. The table was again reserved under her name, and this time it boasted the exact same mug as had held her Irish coffee craft the night of ‘the incident’, earning a sarcastic, “Ha. Ha. Very funny,” from Sam as they approached. She looked all over the table, but didn’t find anything that resembled a clue; having even peered under the chairs.

“Perhaps you should try taking a sip,” suggested Charles nonchalantly.

Sam shot him an odd glance – which he steadfastly ignored – as the glass mug was completely empty…save for a straw. She plucked the straw from the vessel and saw that it was actually just a tightly rolled piece of paper. She unrolled it and found only an address written on it, nothing else.

“Seems kind of sketchy to me,” she raised an eyebrow at Charles, well aware it was the address to his apartment.

“I’m quite certain your Secret Santa would not go to all the effort of setting this up for you, only to off you at the end,” he raised an eyebrow right back.

“If you say so,” she shrugged.

“What, you’re acquiescing that easily?” he teased as they made for his car.

“I trust you,” she smiled simply, inspiring a curling of warmth in his chest.

They pulled into Charles’ parking garage and rode the elevator up to his penthouse, Sam theorizing on the way as to what could be awaiting her, still playing along like she didn’t know it had all been orchestrated by Charles. What greeted her upon opening his apartment door, however, was way beyond any expectations Sam had harboured regarding the big finish. The instant his apartment came into view, a loud and cheery “Merry Christmas Sam!” surrounded her. All of her friends – including Bowser and Ms. Whipple – were there, in Charles’ apartment, wearing Christmas sweaters and setting up a tree. Delicious scents wafted over from a food-laden table – clearly the fare from their Rumidate restaurant – and soft Christmas music played in the background. It was when Bowser trotted up to her sporting a little Christmas sweater and a set of antlers that Sam burst into tears, completely overwhelmed.

“Samara, are you alright?” Charles asked softly, spinning her to face him so that the rest of the room was hidden from her sight.

“Charles,” she whispered, breath catching, “This…you did all this?”

“I…well I couldn’t very well let you spend Christmas alone now, could I?” he attempted to sound neutral, but even he could hear his own voice break slightly.

“It’s amazing, _you’re_ amazing,” she grinned, hugging him tightly, surprising him with the force of it. The other occupants of the room, who had all been silently watching the exchange, burst into cheering again when Sam hugged Charles, the way he tenderly hugged her back, gently kissing the top of her head not going unnoticed by several pairs of eyes, including those of a fierce, yet festive ginger.   
“Ruth, Jay, and your parents are all on standby to TimeFace with you, when you’re ready,” he spoke into her hair, feeling her arms squeeze tighter around him in response. 

She pulled back to beam up at him, a reverent, “Thank you,” spilling from her lips. Then Sam, at Charles’ ushering, picked a happily barking Bowser up into her arms and went over to greet her friends, with hugs all around. 

While Sam was occupied, Charles decided it was a good time to sneak up to his office and check out his present from his own Secret Santa, immensely curious. Once tucked away, the door left slightly ajar, he finished opening the small packet, finding only a USB stick with the words, ‘Play Me’ written upon it. He at at his computer and booted it up, inserting the USB. He ran a quick virus scan just to be safe, not at all surprised to find nothing of the sort on it. Now that it was recognized as secure, Charles opened the drive’s folder, finding only one item bearing the same words as the USB stick itself had: ‘Play Me.’ He clicked on it, and watched as it launched Ruminate – he’d kept it installed on his computer for repeat play-through’s, choosing different options – fingers tenting in front of him as his character appeared on screen. Before he could get a chance to play, however, Ruminate Charles started moving as if on autopilot, running through the exact same choice pattern as his very first play of the game – Sam had had him describe it to her in detail multiple times, so he wasn’t all that surprised to see it replicated perfectly in front of him, though he was very impressed. It soon reached the fateful choice – having run at a greatly increased speed, a detail which he very much appreciated – and he saw the same words as before flash in front of him as two options:

  * **Accept.**
  * **Refuse.**



He sat back as he pondered this decision, lightly gripping his chin as his mind whirred. He had an idea as to what he thought Sam might want him to pick, and moved his mouse so that the cursor hovered just over it. But then again, he also knew that to choose it would be essentially pandering to her, and Sam would never expect that of him; having told him she valued his honesty just as much as he hers. So he clicked on ‘Refuse,’ waiting to see the same screen as he had the first time. On this run, however, Ruminate Sam approached the screen, a warm smile on her face as she spoke, "I thought you might pick this option again, and that's alright, because it gives me time to change your mind.”

Charles’ eyes widened, but any further reaction was stalled as she continued

“Otherwise for now, what you've given me, what you continue to give me, is enough. And I want you to know, Charles Jones..."

The audio trailed off, and Charles frantically began fiddling with his volume controls, when suddenly the door to his office creaked open, and a blushing but determined Sam walked in, finishing the sentence with a confidence that he always admired in her, "That I love you. Just as you are."

He stood from his chair and walked over to her, eyeing her with uncertainty as he said, “Not simpler? Or perhaps easier to read? Or maybe with darker hair?” he asked, taking her hands in his.

“Nope,” she smiled, “Exactly how you are right now.”

She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him gently, delighting in the light red that tinged his cheeks.

“Then I suppose since it’s Christmas, and if you can’t say it at Christmas, when can you?” he responded lightly, bringing each of her hands to his lips, and lightly brushing her knuckles with his lips.

Sam huffed playfully at him, willing him to continue.

“…I love you too, Samara,” his voice didn’t break, nor did it waver, strong as it was with his conviction.

“I know,” she replied cheekily, receiving a scoff in reply before Charles pulled her to him in a kiss to end all kisses, the sounds of their friends celebrating Christmas just below. Unbeknownst to the two, a cheeky red-headed nosey parker moved silently away from Charles’ office door and walked back downstairs. She approached Umed, giving him a high-five as a large grin spread across her face.

“So Operation Charm Secret Santa was a success?” asked Umed, taking a bite of a Christmas cookie.

“Si Senor,” saluted Lucy.

“Do you think they’ll ever suspect it wasn’t by chance?”

“Meh,” shrugged Lucy, “I think even if they did, they’d thank me for it.”

“How did you do it?”

“The cup I brought to Sam was full of pieces of paper with only Charles’ name on them, and vice versa Charles,” Lucy snuck a bite of Umed’s cookie.

“You’re sneaky,” he joked.

“I prefer to be called Christmas Cupid, thank you very much,” she sniffed.

Together, the co-conspirators laughed and rejoined the others, and everyone – including the lovebirds - soon gathered to decorate the tree. It certainly _was_ a Christmas to remember.


End file.
